Beautiful Things
by AmplifyLime
Summary: We all must do things that we're afraid of sometimes. Things that will make us happy. But Cogsworth has a hard time deciding when it puts his friendship with Lumiere in jeopardy.


**AN: Just a little oneshot I wrote for a friend's birthday. Please tell me if you think anything could be done to put them more in character or improve the general quality of this story.**

* * *

Little swirls of snow danced just beyond the window, moving toward the ground in a slow and lazy way. It was freezing; cold enough that none of the groundskeepers wanted to brave the weather long enough to clear the walkways. And if _they_ didn't go out, no one could.

The Beast had slept in, allowing for a quiet sort of morning; not many chores needed to be done and the servants were free to roam about the castle. And so Cogsworth came to be standing just inside the window, watching the flakes fall, with nothing to do but wait for the Master to wake and work to come along.

It was a boring sort of way to pass one's time, but the head of household could see no other options. The kitchen would be full of cooks, the halls full of maids and nowhere could be quieter than this windowsill. He had learned to hate the hustle and bustle of living in the castle, and Cogsworth wouldn't sacrifice this moment of inaction for anything.

"_Bonjour!_"

Unfortunately for him, Lumiere would.

"Good morning, Cogsworth! And what a lovely one it is! Look at that snow!"

"Hello, Lumiere," Cogsworth replied sourly. "Surely one can appreciate a few quiet moments without interruption?"

"Yes, it looked as if you were enjoying them thoroughly."

"Not anymore," the former clock muttered.

"Oh, Cogsworth." The maitre d' sighed. "Enjoy yourself. The snow is beautiful. And look, the sun is even coming out."

Lumiere was right. The sun's rays had touched down onto a perfect blanket of snow. The white stuff had long since stopped falling, and all was peaceful. But somehow, Cogsworth was _not_ happy.

"Why so upset?" the maitre d' asked.

There was a slight change in his expression. It was miniscule – barely even there – but Lumiere caught it.

"Cogsworth," he said, grabbing the older man's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

The head of household turned toward the window again, keeping his eyes on the snow. It was white and blank.

"Do you think anyone in the house sees this?" he asked softly.

Lumiere peered out the window, rubbing some of the mist off with his sleeve. "The snow?" he asked.

"No. I mean… how beautiful it is." Cogsworth gestured to the land, untouched and perfect.

"I would think many of the servants see that. I see that," Lumiere added.

"But do they appreciate it?" Cogsworth asked.

The maitre d' glanced over at his friend, his cheery smile gone.

"I don't think I understand," he said. "What do you mean?"

Cogsworth was silent. It had been a long while since he cared about such matters as these.

"I almost feel as if there's no one in the castle who is like me," he said. "Almost like there's no one I can relate to. It's obvious that everyone despises me, and I don't think I'll ever see a day where I can appreciate these things _with_ someone."

"I'm appreciating it with you right now," Lumiere told him.

"I don't mean it in that way."

"Oh," the maitre d' said slowly. "You mean a woman."

Cogsworth bit his lip, wondering if he should say what he thought next.

"Not… necessarily…"

Lumiere looked over at him – mildly surprised, but interested in what his friend would say next.

"Just… someone," Cogsworth said.

Lumiere turned back to the window.

"Well, _I_ appreciate these things," he said, as if making a point. "And we are similar…" He continued. "And I like you," he added suddenly. It was now Cogsworth's turn to look over in interest.

"What?" he asked.

"I like you," Lumiere repeated.

There was a long silence, broken only by a gust of wind that might rattle the shutters on the window.

"I'm confused," Cogsworth said finally.

"Don't be." Lumiere looked his friend straight in the eyes, moving forward to take the older man's hand in his own. The maitre d' got closer, pulling Cogsworth toward him by the arm, and aiming carefully for the lips. Cogsworth realized what was happening, and deftly avoided Lumiere's face by stepping quickly to the side. The former candlestick was unfazed; he had been avoided many times. But Lumiere was never refused, and he _would_ get what he wanted.

"Are you afraid?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Cogsworth pulled away, clenching his teeth as if ready to deny the implications of such a statement. Afraid? Cogsworth, afraid? Ha.

But he bit back any prideful words he had left and instead, sighed heavily.

"Of course I'm afraid," he said. "You're my best friend… and if this doesn't work…"

"_Mon ami_." Lumiere shook his head in a sad sort of way. "We all must do things that we are afraid of sometimes. You trust me, no?"

Cogsworth looked surprised. "Of course I do! I trust you with everything! To the ends of the earth! With all –"

Lumiere grabbed his hands; Cogsworth went silent. The maitre d' smiled lightly, folding his fingers over his friend's. Cogsworth began to stutter nervously, attempting to finish his sentence but eventually letting his words taper off into nothingness. The two stood together for a time, the maitre d' content. Cogsworth didn't say a word. Perhaps couldn't.

"You are quiet," Lumiere said. "What are you thinking?"

Cogsworth worked his mouth into a half grimace, thinking very hard. "I don't know," he admitted.

The maitre d' laughed. "Just say whatever comes to mind, then."

"That wouldn't be wise," the former clock said, reminding himself more than telling his friend.

"Such a skeptic," Lumiere chided. "Be yourself. There is no one here to judge you," he said, spreading his arms to show the rest of the empty hall.

Cogsworth frowned slightly.

Lumiere brought his hands to his sides slowly, his smile quickly disappearing. "If you trust me, say what you think."

Cogsworth had been head of household for years and his father before him. His entire life had been dedicated to the running of the castle – his work. All he did was make decisions. He had been doing it long before the spell was cast and long before most of its present servants had even come to the castle in the first place.

"In all my years, I've never had such a time of deciding on something," he said.

"But you always make a decision, sooner or later," Lumiere replied.

"Perhaps I need time," Cogsworth suggested.

"Perhaps I won't wait," the maitre d' said, moving in again.

Cogsworth held out a hand to his friend's chest, keeping the man from getting any closer. Lumiere could see the wheels turning quickly in the man's mind, attempting to make some sort of decision. Cogsworth looked into his oldest friend's eyes. _What do I want?_ he thought desperately. _Lumiere is a friend, my dearest friend. Should I compromise that relationship for a different kind? Oh, but look at him. He wants this... But I can say no. I can make this choice... But do I _want_ to say no?_

The maitre d' could do nothing but wait patiently for his friend's decision. But patience was not a virtue Lumiere possessed much of when it came to passion.

Cogsworth eventually sighed, seeing the ever-growing look of eagerness growing on his friend's face. "Alright," he relented.

Lumiere smiled. "There are many things that are beautiful, you know?" He took the shorter man's hands. "This is one of them."

And so the maitre d' leaned down to meet his friend's lips.

The rest of the afternoon passed mostly in waves. Unnatural, magical waves of warmth that were burning – fiery – and at the same time, amazing. It was a strange new feeling that Cogsworth had never felt before, yet immediately wanted more of. Single moments stood clear in his mind. Moments of bliss. Moments of passionate yearning. Moments of overwhelming emotion.

And the hall was _not_ quiet.


End file.
